


You Got Me All Fucked Up On Love

by falloutboyaf



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-26 07:50:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3842842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falloutboyaf/pseuds/falloutboyaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their first kiss had Pete thinking the most cliche bullshit ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kiss Number 1

**Author's Note:**

> WOOOAHH look i wrote more peterick what a surprise  
> ik this is rly short soz  
> enjoooy???

Their first kiss had Pete thinking the most cliche bullshit ever.  
It was Patrick's eighteenth birthday party. Pete insisted on throwing him one, and Joe did too, because Pete promised that if he convinced Patrick, he'd throw him the most awesome party fucking ever for his.  
And so Patrick was alone. He sat in a corner, not old enough to drink, and unlike Joe, not wanting to. People littered Pete's halls and balcony. Music played deafeningly loud. Andy had come up to him once or twice, since he didn't drink and it was nice to have a sober conversation among tons of drunk people in punk bands waiting to make it big. Mostly, Patrick was alone in Pete's familiar house.  
Pete didn't drink much, enough to get buzzed. He didn't want to do something stupid at the party. He was known as the "fun" drunk, and always pulled stupid shit.  
"Trick!" Pete said, over the music. Patrick looked up, giving him a slight nod. "You having fun?"  
"Uh, yeah I guess." Patrick replied. It wasn't anything like he'd expected. Most of the people were Pete's friends. All of Patrick's were drinking, despite being under age.  
"What? You don't love it?" Pete asked, surprised, though he knew he shouldn't be since Patrick wasn't talking to anyone.  
"I know you put a lot of work into it, and got a ton of stuff, and I appreciate that. It's just a bit bigger, that, um, I was expecting."  
"Oh," Pete said. "Don't worry. I'll fix it for you." He smiled wide, and set his beer down beside Patrick on the floor before disappearing.  
Suddenly, the music stopped. Everyone looked around, confused. Patrick did too. Then, Pete jumped up on one of the speakers he had that had been playing the music.  
"Everyone out!" He yelled. The crowd looked offended, and mumbled to each other. Patrick blushed furiously. "Seriously, if everyone isn't gone in five minutes, then whoever is left will be fucking sorry."  
Pete was scary for a twenty three year old man who was hardly over five feet.  
People angrily went out. Joe was lead by Andy, who held him upright, and then waved to Pete kindly. Sure enough, everyone had left, except Patrick and Pete.  
Finally, he jumped off the amp, and strode over to Patrick. "There. Fixed it."  
Patrick looked up at him with doe eyes.  
"You didn't have to-"  
"I know. I know I didn't."  
And Patrick went red, and stood up quickly, then pushed his lips to Pete's. He was taken aback, moving backwards, breaking the kiss. Patrick was embarrassed, fists clenched tightly. For the first time, Pete was off track. It only took him a moment to lean in again, hands ghosting over Patrick's hips. But Patrick shoved himself at Pete, one arm tightly around the back of his neck, the other holding his lower back.  
This other side of Patrick was different. And he definitely liked it. Pete licked at his lip, and Patrick's mouth opened just enough for him to slip his tongue in.  
It made Pete's heart jump in his chest, wanting to stay here with Patrick forever. And now he understood why people always compared first kisses with somebody to fireworks. He hadn't felt this way in a long time. It was fucking perfect. The crazy part of Pete's head had him wanting to marry Patrick right now. In this moment, Patrick was the most beautiful thing. Patrick was all he could think about. His hands on Pete's neck and back, the way he tasted, the feel of his smooth lips against Pete's chapped ones.  
Before he knew it, Patrick pulled away, adjusted his hat, and walked out quickly without another word, slamming the door.  
Pete touched a finger to his lips, smiling wide.


	2. Kiss Number 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hell yeah

Their second kiss was a week later. They didn't talk about Patrick's birthday, just returned to their usual band practice, not saying a word and with Patrick avoiding Pete at all costs. There was a disconnect, Pete nervous, and Patrick pretending like nothing had even happened, but not talking to him anyways.  
Pete felt obsessed. Anytime he looked at Patrick singing, he remembered how he felt when he kissed him, and how warm he was, pressed up against Pete. He fucked up the chorus, for the second time today.  
"Listen, dude," Joe said casually, taking Pete aside after practice. Andy and Patrick were talking about some band while they cleaned up a bit, grabbing their stuff and wrapping up chords. "You're off. What's up with you?"  
Pete was looking at Patrick, thinking again to last week. For a moment, Patrick met his eyes, but then he turned around to grab his bag. Pete turned away, seeing Joe's worried expression, and grinned. "Nothing."  
"You're full of shit." Joe rolled his eyes, walked past Pete, and grabbed his guitar before stomping out the door.  
Andy and Patrick were still talking, about some stupid band or something. Pete knew they'd leave soon. He needed to get closure from Patrick, he wasn't going to put up with this. What kind of a friend makes out with you and leaves quickly, never explaining?   
Pete took in a breath, striding over to them, and shoving his hands in his pockets. "Uh, hey, Patrick, mind if I talk to you a bit?"  
Patrick tried to protest. "Oh, Andy and I are in the middle of something."  
"I can go. I gotta go meet some guys anyways." Andy said sweetly, and Patrick damned him to hell for leaving him with Pete. Even though Andy didn't know. He was trying to be nice, as always. It was kind of funny, seeing this tattooed hardcore dude who acted the way he did.  
"See you guys later." Andy waved, shoving his drumsticks into his bag, and walking out the door, Pete waving weakly at him.  
Once he was gone, Pete turned to Patrick.  
"He have to talk." Pete said, looking at him closely. He noticed the red tint in Patrick's cheeks, a little bit of sweat on his forehead from bouncing around and singing for the past hour. Patrick avoided his gaze.  
"About what?" He said in a feeble voice.  
"You know exactly what. What was that, Patrick?" Pete replied, touching his arm casually.  
"Pete-" Patrick started, before sighing. "It was nothing."  
"Oh," Pete laughed. "That? That was not nothing Patrick. You were all over me, man."  
"It was, fuck... I was saying thank you, for that." Patrick stammered, swatting Pete's hand away. The room seemed too small, and Pete was way too close, and he worried that he was gonna do something very stupid.  
"You should say thank you like that more often, because, fuck," Pete said, biting his lip. He maybe was pushing it, and fucking up majorly, but goddamn it would be worth it if he could kiss him again. "It was hot. Come on. Like, I thought you couldn't get any better. I mean, with that voice and your face and shit, like some sort of argyle angel," He smirked. "But shit was I wrong."  
"Thanks, I guess." Patrick said. "But I don't-"  
"Thanks?" Pete interrupted. "Are you saying thank you?"  
"Pete," He said in a warning tone.  
"Cause if you're gonna say thank you again, I would like it if maybe we could do it against the wall? Or on the couch?"  
"Pete." He almost growled. And that just made Pete want it more.  
"I don't know if I can accept this kind of apology, Trick."  
"Shut the fuck up, dude."  
"Make me." Pete challenged. And so Patrick did.  
He marched Pete over to the couch, shoved him down, and crawled onto his lap. He sat on his knees, beside of each of Pete's thighs. Patrick leaned down, holding Pete's head with both his hands, and kissed him roughly. Pete smiled into the kiss, more confident this time. He knew that this was gonna be the last time for a while, and he was gonna make it count.  
Patrick bit Pete's lip maybe a little too hard, and Pete gasped a bit. He could feel Patrick smirking, and it was really really fucking hot. Pete grabbed Patrick's waist, pulling him as close as he could, moving one hand more and more up his back.   
It only took a minute, before Patrick was pulling off. Pete tried to bring him back, pulling at him and whining. Patrick almost gave in, relaxing and letting him for a moment, before deciding against it and shoving Pete away. He stood in front of Pete, and wiped his mouth, which was bright pink, staring straight into his eyes the whole time. Pete's heart fluttered like it did in middle school.  
"Patrick?" Pete said questioningly, standing up, close to Patrick. "Come on, please."  
"Bye Pete." Was all he said, before leaving, a little pep in his step.  
Once he was gone, Pete laughed, and fell back onto the couch, head in his hands.


	3. Kiss Number 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ?????????????

Their third kiss was a few months later. Pete tried to forget about the first two, tried to tell himself it was nothing. Meant nothing. But he couldn't. He didn't try anything else, just wanting Patrick to come to him first.  
They were back to normal, hanging out, Pete hugging him for no reason and drooling all over him, Patrick telling him the cut it the fuck out, Andy and Joe rolling their eyes all the while. It wasn't awkward. Pete thanked god for that.  
And he wrote. Songs about Patrick. Lots of them. He debated often whether he should show the rest of them, or if they would know. Pete decided it was too obvious, and stuffed them away in a drawer by his bed to be forgotten. It wasn't anything but a way to help himself get over it. That was all. Forgotten.  
Until three and a half months more had passed.  
Patrick was over with his guitar, they were alternating between writing and cups of coffee. It was late, one in the morning. They'd been sitting for hours, both going on and on about bands and music and gigs and songs. Pete admired the comfort of the situation, and as much as he wanted to jump on Patrick, he was happy to even be around him.  
"No, Neurosis is totally better." Patrick argued. He was huddled with a pillow on the chair opposite to Pete's. His eyes were sleepy, but he was smiling, looking awake and interested.  
"I'm just saying Cannibal Corpse isn't that bad, dude."  
"They aren't even the same genre. Fucking death metal. That's what Cannibal Corpse is. They aren't even that good."  
"Take that shit back, Trick." Pete said with a grin. He hadn't listened to much Cannibal Corpse since he was fourteen, but he liked good death metal. It seemed to disturb Patrick plenty.  
"Be quiet. I have to go to the bathroom."  
"Okay," Pete said with a winning smile.  
He had exactly two bathrooms. Once in his room, and one by the living room. Patrick always opted for the once in his room, since Pete was surprisingly clean, and his guests weren't. Pete leaned back, flipping his phone open and texting back some friend. A minute later, once Patrick was out, he heard something.  
"Pete." Patrick called softly. He was in Pete's room. Pete shoved his phone in his hoodie, putting up the hood, and walked in.  
Fuck.  
Patrick sat on the bed, drawer open, papers littered over his bed. In his hand, Patrick clutched one of the songs, with the paper crumpling slightly, and his knuckles turning white.  
"Pete?"  
"Fuck," He gasped. "No, shit, Patrick. I just-"  
"I shouldn't have looked." Patrick said, looking guilty. "I saw my name on a few, and I wanted to see."  
"Shit." Pete didn't know what else to say, standing in the doorway, anxious as fuck.  
"Sorry, I'll put it back, never mind. I'm sorry." Patrick said, voice shaking with nerves. "I'll forget about it, sorry."  
"No!" It took a split second for Pete to decide. Chances didn't come often enough. He wasn't gonna let it pass, and decided to ignore the consequences for a minute. "Shit, Patrick. I love you. As you can see." He ran his hands through his hair, laughing nervously, wishing the words would come as easily as they did when he was writing. "I mean, I really fucking like you, and I can't forget how you feel. Patrick I'm so sorry. I understand if you don't- Fuck. I get it, but I just want you to know."  
Patrick looked helpless. The paper was slipping from his hands, eyes locked with Pete's, who didn't look much better. It was silent, and the air between them was heavy. Patrick's head slumped, his eyes shut tight.  
"Pete?" He asked, finally looking up. "Um, can I... Can I kiss you?"  
Pete froze. And wow. That was unexpected. But he came to his senses quickly, nodding eagerly.  
Patrick walked up, cautiously, and put a hand on Pete's shoulder. He ran his fingers up Pete's lips with his other one, hardly touching, looking intently at Pete, eyes wide. Patrick rubbed his thumb over them, and then stood up a little more to kiss him.  
This one was softer than the others, with Pete gently holding his waist, Patrick's arms around his neck. It wasn't rushed and messy. It was more than that. Patrick was obviously nervous, Pete taking the lead, kissing tenderly. For once, Pete could properly taste him. He tasted like all the coffee they drank. Patrick bit his lip again, like before, but sweetly, and then pulling away for a moment. When Pete looked down, he nuzzled his head on Pete's shoulders, hugging him tightly, and refusing to meet his eyes. Pete felt his hot breath, and closed his eyes, resting his head against Patrick's, just to feel him.  
A minute later, Pete shrugged him off, and took him by the wrist to the bed. They were both silent as Pete dragged him onto the bed, pulling him close.  
Patrick ended up on his lap as Pete laid against the headboard. He straddled Pete's thighs, arms on the headboard to keep him steady. Pete ran his hands up and down his back, and Patrick scooted back just a little bit, and touched his thighs with one hand, the other on Pete's cheek.  
"I don't want to do that yet." Patrick said, sounding sure for the first time. His hand rested, still.  
"No rush, Tricky." Pete replied sweetly, reaching up to Patrick's chin and bring him down so he could kiss him again.


End file.
